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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981720">The Tempest</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Praetyger/pseuds/Praetyger'>Praetyger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Psychic Paper, Rescue, Romance, Shakespeare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:29:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981720</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Praetyger/pseuds/Praetyger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let us go in together,<br/>And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.<br/>The time is out of joint—O cursèd spite,<br/>That ever I was born to set it right!<br/>Nay, come, let's go together" --Hamlet Act 1, scene 5, 186–190.</p><p>The Tempest. The story of a magician stranded on an island. The first of Shakespeare's tragic comedies and part of the late romances. Romance in the literary sense refers to the tale of a chivalric knight on a quest. But this isn't classic literature. It's romance.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Tempest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Help me. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Clara. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I need your help.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>What is it this time Doctor ? Don’t tell me its the Chinese handcuffs again. </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Clara....No. I’m sorry. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Look, I’m just finishing up some marking. Give me two hours and then I’m all yours</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Clara.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fish fingers and custard.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Clara Oswald stared at the psychic paper in her hand, unable to move. No. </p><p>No, no, no. This was not happening to her again. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Doctor, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare do this to me. Where are you ?! </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I don’t know. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>An island of some sort.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I don’t remember how I got here. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>No TARDIS.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I need your help. Go to the Black Archive. But listen, there’s every chance...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>No.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Clara, listen to me…</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Doctor, if you finish whatever the hell you’re going to say I swear I will rip your world-a-bloody-sunder ! </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>I’m on my way ! </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Clara. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>What did I just say ?!</strong>
</p>
<hr/><p>Clara tried to stomp down on the wave of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. This was all too familiar to that day. To the day Danny died. The Doctor had come up with a code word for the two of them. Something to alert the other if...if something were to happen. He told her that it was for her use, if she was ever in trouble. Any trouble. But she knew better. She knew why he had picked that phrase. Yes, he had decided on that because it was something he wouldn’t be caught dead saying otherwise ( the git had grinned at that ) but she knew there was another reason. Fish fingers and custard was the Bow-tie Doctor’s favorite. It was of special significance to him. It was also what he had had on Trenzalore….after he had finished his phone call with her. Before he ….No. Not this time. Not on her watch. </p><p>She was already running out the door, donning her jacket and gloves as she ran down staircase after staircase. This was starting to feel increasingly like that Christmas. </p><p>Clara swallowed down her nausea and paralyzing sense of foreboding as she dashed into the parking lot, the sun blinding her for a second before she put her sunglasses on. It was once again, a beautiful day. Just like that Christmas, just like the day Danny died on the other end of the phone while she got ready to break things off with him . </p><p>To hell with fish fingers and custard.</p><p>"Hands in the air.”</p><p>Clara stiffened just as she reached her motorbike. <em> What the hell is it now ?!  </em></p><p>She did as she was told and turned around slowly to face a tall, dark-haired woman dressed in all black. She had a very stern face and looked to be in her late forties. <em> Or really great fifties. </em> Clara got the strong impression that she was not one to be crossed. </p><p>“Clara Oswald.” said the woman “No sudden moves. There are currently 3 snipers pointed directly at you. Non-lethal, I assure you but we would appreciate your cooperation. ” </p><p>“I’m a schoolteacher and I have a Doctor’s appointment,” said Clara. She didn’t have time for this. Whatever the hell this was. </p><p>“Yes, you are. You are also the Doctor’s ...companion. With significant authority over UNIT. We have orders to treat you on the same threat level as Captain Jack Harkness” replied the woman leisurely, her hands in her pockets. No weapons, Clara noticed. But then, one didn’t really need weapons with snipers on command. </p><p>"Now who's idea was that ? What do you want ? ” said Clara, her hands still raised and mind racing. The inklings of a plan. “You know what, I don’t care. I don’t have time for this.” </p><p>“You will come with us.”  </p><p>Clara sighed. <em> Guess it would have to be the hard way. </em> She needed to take control and she needed to do it quick. She forced herself to calm down, paying acute attention to every beat of her heart. <em> Keep talking. </em></p><p>"You really do say things like that huh? <em> You will come with us </em>.” she mocked, taking note of her surroundings. She figured there were soldiers standing by in the shadows. Ready to aid in capture or provide backup. Well, Clara assumed they were soldiers, this woman whoever she was didn’t exactly look like a civilian. She counted two black cars at either end of the lot and men doing terrible jobs at blending in. They really were pulling out the stops for her.</p><p>“Do you guys have to take a course or something ? It’s very cliche, this Matrix routine. How about spicing things up a bit. <em> Please Miss Oswald, would you accompany us to this super shady secret whatsit </em>. Sounds much more civilized” said Clara, as her mind ticked away. </p><p>If being with the Doctor had taught her anything, it’s that if your opponents already fear you, you lean into it and put it to use. Her Doctor might be heralded as The Oncoming Storm and yadda yadda yadda, but she knew for a fact that he was pantsing it through 90 percent of the time and half-thinking about custard creams while he did<em> .  </em></p><p>Her hands still raised , she jerked her head to the side slightly so that her hair would fall over her face and made a show of  moving it away, her hand reached her sunglasses. Clara put down her other arm, her psychic paper still clutched tight. </p><p>“ I said hands in the air !” </p><p>“Don’t want to. Not that I need to anymore.  You’ve just handed me all control of the situation. Amateur.”  said Clara as the woman made to take her hands out of her pockets </p><p>“Ah ah ah. No sudden movements.” warned Clara, tapping her temple.“Sonic sunglasses. Anti-Doctor 101: you take the bloody sonic. Amateur, see what I mean ?” </p><p> “You know what that is ?” continued Clara nodding to the motorbike at her side. “Anti-grav motorbike. <em> Another </em> present from the Doctor. Anti-grav motorbike with a limitation field.” </p><p>She twirled on her heel to stroke the bike fondly. “ Tell me, do you know what happens to an anti-grav system when the limitation field is disabled ? “ asked Clara. </p><p><em>Limitation field ? What are you talking about ?!  </em> said the voice in Clara’s head. <em> Shush , roll with it, </em>advised the other more Scottish voice in her psyche. </p><p>"Sonic sunglasses. Anti-grav tech. You do the math. I reckon I can sonic the bike before you signal them to fire and you <em>r</em><em>eally </em> don’t want me to do that. I quite like my parking lot firmly on the ground. But once I do, your snipers are useless. Even bullets need gravity.”</p><p><em>You have absolutely no idea what you’re saying do you ? </em> said the Scottish brogue in her head. </p><p>Not a clue. </p><p>
  <em>Brilliant. </em>
</p><p>“You see, I know a thing or two about commanding snipers. They won’t fire until you tell them to. Not with a high-value target like me. I don’t have to be faster than a bullet, I just have to be faster than <em> you </em>.”  finished Clara, hand dropping from her perfectly ordinary pair of sunglasses as she stared the woman down. </p><p>“So, before I lose my patience or that vein on your forehead that's pulsing like a deep-sea creature goes and bursts. Let's try this again. <em>What do you want </em> ? “</p><p>The woman’s jaw clenched but Clara noted that her hands remained firmly in her pockets. “It’s about the Doctor.” she said. “ I’m afraid he’s dead.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feedback and constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated.<br/>Bonus: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hKkR4YFtyJk">Beethoven Sonata No.17 Tempest 3rd Movement</a></p><p>The psychic paper method of communication and indeed the inspiration for this story was taken from TheSaddleman's fantastic twelveclara story --<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478534">The Curse Of Caring</a>.</p><p>This is an idea that's long been festering. A story I planned to tackle once I was comfortable with writing. That was the original purpose of Purgatory, a way to hone my proficiency. That was before that story took on a life of its own and evolved to an astronomical scale. So, now the tempest is the one serving that function. A story to wiggle the proverbial pencil.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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